Color Me Toxic
by iloveghostoftherobot
Summary: In this story, Wes is still alive and kicking. Lorne didn't quit, but he did kill Linsey. It's about a girl that terrifies Angel. R
1. TK

Read: Okay, if I owned any of the characters on Angel, do you seriously think I'd be writing fanfics instead of flirting up a storm with James Marsters?  
  
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Clara was walking down a dark alley, fingering the stake in her hand almost lovingly as she honed her powers for the forces of evil. Suddenly, she heard the sound she had been waiting for. Footsteps trying to match hers. They stopped only a second too late and Clara heard them. One second away from certain death. She turned around, her duster flaring, dark black hair fanning out in the air.  
"Aw, look at the cute little vampire about to pick on a poor, defenseless little girl," she cooed, and walked toward the vampire, stake in hand. She ran at him and the vampire raised a hand and stopped her. She beat him across the head with her Doc Marten clad feet and he staggered backward. She plunged the stake into his heart and down he went poofing into dust. Clara smiled cynically and blew a hair out of her mouth.  
"You should have listened to your mother," she told the dust lying in the middle of the alley. "Strange things can happen at night, especially in L.A." She shook off her duster and went back on her way until once again she heard the uneven footsteps behind her. She sighed, shoulders slumping. Two in one night? Not only did she want to get home before the last episode of Friends came on; she also wanted to dip her feet into the hot tub of water she'd fill as soon as she got home. The Doc Martens might look cool, but they felt anything other than that.  
"Hello?" she called, when she turned around. She had been expecting to see a rather menacing looking vampire, a sardonic smile across her lips. Instead she saw nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Hmm, wants to be sneaky? "Hellooo," she called again, stealthily slipping her stake into her pocket. No need for this evil being to know she wasn't some helpless little girl who put on too much hair gel.  
"Hello," said another vampire, walking around the corner, looking a little menacing, and a sardonic smile crossing his lips. "What are you doing out at night in L.A.? Especially in the middle of a dark and deserted alley?" His hair was brown and his eyes were the kind you expected on a puppy dog, not a soul-less being. His voice was also calming, soothing also not what you expected to hear from something that killed and tortured for pleasure.  
"I don't know, what are you doing?" Clara answered the question with a question. Angel felt a little flustered. He wasn't used to girls not being scared of him in the middle of dark alleys. Not that he wanted them to be scared, he just enjoyed the occasional-cat and-mouse game before giving himself up and telling them what he truly was. Relieved some of the pressure from having to deal with Spike.  
"I asked first," he said, taking another step closer. Clara looked at him and slowly began to approach him. Her fingers ran over the stake in her pocket before she whipped it out and held the point right over his chest. Angel gasped, unable to stop him.  
"Gimme a reason and I swear I will," she said the tip of the stake digging in a little too far for comfort. Angel took a step back and held up his hands in defeat.  
"Okay, okay. Don't stake I'm good. I won't uh...ask you things anymore."  
"Good," said Clara testily, putting the stake back into her purse and flicking back her hair. "And, not that it's any of your business, but I'm seventeen."  
"What?" Angel asked, taking another step back in surprise. "What?" he asked again, utterly confused.  
"You were thinking it. You were like, How old is this chic to be messing around with guys in an alley? So, I'm seventeen."  
Angel's mouth dropped open momentarily, then quickly he shut it, then opened it again to ask, "So you're telepathic."  
"And I have TK."  
"Which is?"  
"God! How long has it been since you've been with real people? Oh, you're a vampire."  
  
"Stop looking in my head!"  
Clara laughed a hard and bitter laugh that almost made Angel feel sorry for her. All of a sudden, Clara's bitter laughter stopped and she wrinkled her nose. "Ew, don't feel pity for me. Oh, gross, I hate pity."  
"I thought I told you to stay out of my head."  
  
"I was picking up on your emotions. You know, for a vampire you're pretty emotional."  
  
"Well I have a -"  
"Soul, yeah, yeah I know. I saw that as soon as I started digging around the first time." At Angel's incredulous look, the bitter laughter rolled out of Clara's rosebud mouth again. "Don't worry, I'm stopping now. I know people don't always appreciate me lookin' around where I'm not supposed to.  
"So anyway, you never answered my question. What're you doing here and why are you antagonizing me when really you should know better."  
"If you're going to play that game," said Angel, "Then really I asked you first and you should be the one to answer my question."  
Clara sighed. This one had so much to learn. "Yeah well," she said and looked him straight in the eyes, "I'm the one with TK."  
Angel began having the weirdest floating sensation. It was like when you were so scared that you felt that part of you was leaving your body. He looked down to see if he was having one of those moments, then realized he was six inches off the ground. He looked down at Clara and saw that her face was beginning to grow a little pale from the effort of keeping him up there. Then she began to laugh.  
"I don't see what's so funny," growled Angel, twisting and turning around, trying to find a way down. He kept going higher and higher until he was about ten feet off the ground and Clara was down there staring up at him and laughing maniacally. The top of his head was almost level with the top of the low-built clubs around the alley. Clara just kept laughing and laughing and Angel almost began to feel scared. When he saw the fact that she was getting little red spots on her face from keeping him up so high for so long, he thought for sure she'd let him down now, or at least stop lifting. But what teenager ever does something for their own good?  
"If only you could see your face right now Angel," she said loudly enough for him to hear now. It was now as if she were talking to a twenty- one feet tall giant. "And I think running away from home is something this teenager did something for her own good." She started laughing again, then in a sudden burst of energy that made her eyes screw up and her fists clench and tiny beads of sweat break out on her forehead, she lifted him up another twenty feet.  
Now he was at least ten feet above all the buildings on this run-down street and could see for three blocks. Clara was far, far down below and the atmosphere was almost beginning to get a little colder. His feet were swaying much like someone's feet would swing if they had been hung. The idea made him shudder, and from the immediate and sickening swaying that began after that, he immediately regretted it.  
"Wanna tell me why you take pleasure in annoying young girls in dark alleys now Angel?!" Clara called up to him.  
"I saw you staking that other vampire the other night," Angel called down, trying to fight back. But even with sweat beginning to pool on her face and bright, feverish red spots on her cheeks, Clara was still the strongest person with TK in L.A., perhaps even in the whole state. Maybe even the country. "I just came to see what you would do to me."  
Immediately he began to come to the ground. A little too fast for his comfort, he landed hard on his ankles. They immediately buckled and he fell over. He felt invisible hands on his back and he was up again. "Thanks," he said, rubbing his neck even though it didn't hurt. Old habits die hard.  
"Well, if that's all," she said, and began to walk out of the alley like she had never lifted him thirty feet up into the air. He reached out a hand and stopped her.  
"You got a job?" he asked her.  
She turned to look at him, a confused look on her face. Then apprehension dawned on her pretty face and she said, "Oh, I dunno about working for you Angel."  
Angel dismissed the fact that she had barged into his mind uninvited again. "Really Clara, we could use someone like you. You're the strongest person I've ever met with TK, granted, the only person I've ever met, but if you could hold me, a century and a half or so year old vampire up in the air like that, then you definitely deserve a place at Wolfram and Hart."  
"I dunno," she said, shifting her weight to her right side and crossing her arms. "I'll think about it." Then she walked off. Angel leaned against the alley wall and watched her. The girl was just offered a place at the very well known business that was also known for its huge paychecks, and was also offered this by the head of the L.A. branch, and still she tells him she'll think about it. Angel shook his head and went up to his apartment. She'd be in his office the next morning, practically begging for the job. Angel was sure of it. 


	2. fine booty

Read: Okay, if I owned any of the characters on Angel, do you seriously think I'd be writing fanfics instead of flirting up a storm with James Marsters?  
  
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It was two weeks later. Angel had not heard a word from the mysterious Clara. He was thinking about that as he sat at his desk, his fingers templed beneath his chin. Wesley came in just then and saw that Angel was in deep thought. He had had that look now for two weeks, and whenever he looked like that, Wesley thought he must be thinking of either Cordy or Fred. Certainly Wesley thought of Fred enough that everyone knew the look on his face when she was on his mind. This Illyria was bugging the hell out of him. All he wanted was for the weird clothes, the blue stuff around her face, and the bulbous and gross blue eyes to disappear, and to see Fred underneath that hideous costume.  
He was closing the door when Angel snapped out of his reverie. "Wesley!" he called. Wes stepped into the office and looked at Angel. He still looked troubled and confused, but Wes decided to tell him anyway. He took off his glasses and wiped them on the end of his shirt. "There still haven't been any leads for a way to save Fred, and I was wondering if -"  
"No, Wes," he said, looking down at his desk top, looking as sad as ever. "We can't do that. I miss her as much as you do, but it's still against the law." Wesley nodded and stepped out of the room. No harm in asking.  
As he closed the door behind him and took a step out into the main area of the building, he ran into a girl wearing all black, tight clothes. She looked like what might have been a female Spike. Except her hair wasn't blonde. Wesley guessed it was just the way she walked and the attitude that surrounded her that made him think she was a female Spike. She looked at Wes with disdain and said, "Watch where you're goin'." Then shoved him out of the way. Quite taken aback, Wesley just stared as the girl walked into Angel's office. Wesley doubted she had made an appointment.  
Angel looked up to see Clara walk into the office. She looked like she was going to kick someone's ass again, so he felt a little scared. He couldn't even help it. The last time she had looked like that he had ended up thirty something feet up in the air. She slammed the door unnecessarily and sat down in the chair across from his desk, throwing her leg over the arm.  
At his surprised look, Clara said, "I'm here for the job offer?"  
Angel nodded and then Clara bit out, "And don't think that I came because I had a choice. It was either homeless and asking, 'Would you like fries with that?' all day or -" she stopped and motioned around the office - "This."  
Angel nodded again and continued shuffling around in his desk .The filing system was that there was no filing system. Finally he pulled out what he was looking for and with ease, tossed it directly into Clara's lap. She looked down and picked it up. Then she flicked her wrist and a pen came flying into her outstretched hand. Angel looked at the top of his desk and noticed that he was now pen-less. She filled out the form and easily sent it over to him. He looked down at it and said with surprise, "Toxic?"  
"Oops," said Clara, and flicked her wrist again. The form came back and so did the pen. She crossed out Toxic and wrote Clara. "That's what all my friends called me before I ran away." She sent the form back over to him and he looked down at it again. "You know there's going to be a little bit of a problem with you only being seventeen. I mean, this job does recquire some actual work and a little bit of a tough stomach. I also think you have to be able to -"  
"Please Angel," she said. "Do you really think I can't handle myself? Just tell me if you think I have a job or not."  
"Well with that kind of attitude," Angel said, not able to help himself.  
"With this kind of attitude what? And don't tell me you don't hire people like me. Don't think I can't see Spike in there."  
  
"Stop looking in my head!" he yelled. Clara didn't even flinch. "I guess you have the job. Come to work on Monday."  
"Am I gonna have a lame job?" she asked , standing up and impatiently shifting her weight to one side.  
"I would like a jumbo shake and fries with that please," Angel said warily. Clara got the point and left the room. She bumped into Gunn, who turned and stared after her as she left the building.  
Gunn burst into Angel's office without knocking and made Angel start, and look up sharply in surprise. "Now, tell me who that girl was with the fine butt and no one gets hurt."  
"Gunn," Angel said, waving a hand at him dismissively. "This is a working environment and that happens to be one of our prospective employees."  
  
"Can I be partnered with her?"  
"She's a mind reader and a telekenetic," Angel said in warning.  
"So what? Anyone with a booty like that has GOT to be partnered with me."  
"Whatever Gunn. Was that all you had to say?"  
  
"Well, no. But I can't remember what else it was, so I guess I'll go. See ya man!" 


	3. death

Still don't own Angel or any of the characters. If I did, the show would never end. We'd just keep seeing the hotties come in and go out.  
  
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Clara walked into the room where Illyria was kept. She and the man called Wesley were talking. She sat down and began to idly drum her fingers on the mats she was sitting on. Wesley looked interested as Illyria told him all about how she hated this new thing, how she no longer had any of her old abilities and she wanted them back. She seemed to be pretty mad about not being able to go through some time rift she kept referring to, though to hear Wesley talk, it was almost what destroyed her. Clara was bored with this conversation.  
Wham. Illyria slid to the floor, completely knocked out. For the time being. With the force Clara had used for that throw, they had about fifteen minutes, give or take.  
"What did you do that for?" Wesley asked, looking over and expecting to see Spike or something, instead of some strange girl who looked like she shopped from the same store as Spike. "And who are you?"  
"Is that really any of your business? Angel wants to talk to you. And don't you be mad at me mister, I'm not the one who's gallavanting with demons as Angel seems to think it."  
"Angel thinks I'm galavanting with demons, eh? Well, I guess he doesn't need to talk to me so badly."  
"You don't go down, there, I don't got a job."  
"Is that such a horrible thing?"  
The door flew open. Wesley then promptly sailed through it.  
"That was good mortal child," said the thing called Illyria. She must have been a lot stronger than what Clara had been able to see in her mind. Then again, her mind was so muddled and unlike any she had ever seen before, she wasn't so sure that was extraordinarily strange she hadn't seen this coming.  
"Whatever," Clara said, and stood. The blue thing came at her, but Clara could already sense the attack coming. She mentally picked up one of the big sharp things on the wall and had it take a hack at her head. It nicked Illyria's neck, then Clara decided to let her conscience win, and the big shiny thing fell to the floor with a deafening clatter.  
"How did you do that mortal child? And why did you not kill me?"  
"I have my reasons. Get out of my face."  
"I am not in your face. I'm right here."  
Clara was starting to get annoyed. She walked out the door and made sure Wesley went directly to Angel's office. She was the new gofer in the company, who cared. All she wanted to make sure of, was that she didn't have to do any janitor duty or make sure that somebody's burger was extra crispy. She fairly shoved Wesley inside.  
"You wanted to see me?" Wesley asked, when they were both in there.  
"Yes. Clara -"  
"Please, I answer to Tox a little better, all right?"  
"Tox, will you please leave us?"  
  
"Sure." She left and went to the worker's lounge. In there, was Spike and Lorne, busy discussing something or other that she didn't really care about. She made a cup of coffee and began to drink it. It was gone in one gulp. She took three cups, then sat down at a table far away from the vampire and demon's.  
"Hello love," said Lorne. "I don't think I've ever met someone who can drink coffee as quickly as you can."  
"I don't think you ever will," Clara said bitingly. Spike turned around with interest. He didn't like someone mouthing off to Lorne - he seemed like a fairly decent fellow - but he also liked someone who could talk with that kind of attitude. As soon as he turned around though, he saw the girl grimace in pain.  
"What's wrong?" Lorne said, concerned. He wasn't so sure he liked her, but he could still be nice.  
"Nothing, nothing's wrong," she said hurriedly, and stood up quickly. Too quickly. She fell over and her leg twitched, the sign that she had died.  
  
Okay, this one's REALLY short I know, best I could do under the circumstances. Thank you so much for reviewing! 


	4. I'm your master

Still don't own Angel or any of the characters. If I did, the show would never end. We'd just keep seeing the hotties come in and go out.  
  
Then she hopped up. She looked around a little wildly, as if expecting to see something that wasn't there. Spike and Lorne got a vision of a young girl no older than five being led into a large, dark room. The room was full of torture machines, from the normal chains on the wall to the stretch machines of the olden days. Metal scythes hung on the wall and knives and swords and daggers of all kinds glinted threateningly in the small light filtering in through the door. As soon as the door was closed, only a tiny amount of gray light coming from a crack in the wall that must make the room hell during a storm came through. The girl was laid down on the stretch machine and a crooning but sinister sounding voice said, "I told you not to Clara, but you wouldn't listen. Why don't you ever listen to me Clara?"  
Then the vision disappeared as quickly as it had come. The Clara now looked confused and quickly shook her head again. Her dark hair shook and the individual strands shone in the light from the window. Her eyes were dark and foreboding, but Spike decided he had to ask the question anyway.  
"What was that?"  
"Nothing," Clara said. Much too quickly, just as when she stood up too quickly. "It just happens sometimes. You know..." she trailed off, her mumbling slowly becoming incoherent.  
"No," said Lorne, "We don't know. Why don't you tell us about it?"  
"No, really I'm fine. So are you. That shouldn't be happening anymore. I just..."  
"You just what?" asked Spike worriedly. He took a concerned step toward her and she intuitively backed away.  
"I just..." she finally looked up and into Spikes clear eyes and said, "Have to be more careful is all. I think...I think I should go...do something really quick."  
She exits the room and Spike and Lorne stared after her.  
  
There was a knock on the door. Wesley yelled for whomever it was to come in. He hoped to God it wasn't Angel. Not that he was mad or anything, he just really didn't need to deal with anything frustrating at the moment.  
  
The door opened and in walked Clara. Wesley sighed. He looked up to the ceiling as though about to have a serious talk to God about what frustrating was and wasn't.  
Clara sprawled in the chair in front of Wesley's desk and said bluntly, "I can't find Angel."  
"Well, he's probably off working somewhere. He's not in his office that often."  
"Really? Whatever. I have to find him. If you see him...tell him I'm looking for him."  
He nodded. "Right-o."  
  
Clara left. Wesley shook his head.  
  
Clara found Angel in Gunn's office talking about something Clara might have cared about had she been involved. As it was, she traipsed in there and interrupted so coolly and swiftly, Angel and Gunn didn't really know what was happening.  
"Angel. I need to talk to you."  
Angel turned as if to see whom the magical person that had teleported here and interrupted. He saw Clara finally registered what she had said, and then replied, "All right. Can it hold on a moment?"  
Clara looked at Gunn. He was pretty good-looking. She considered, not wanting to upset a guy as good-looking as he was, then sighed heavily and threw up her arms in defeat.  
She sat down in one of the chairs and followed their conversation as easily as she could.  
"No Gunn, it's just not possible. You saw what the Senior Partners are. You know what can happen when you upset them. There's nothing we can really do here. I thought you knew that. We just have to wait for him to show up."  
"Why though? Why do we have to wait for him? You're alive Angel. We don't have to wait for Linsey anymore."  
"Yes we do. I may not like him, but when I do die, and that could be very soon, I don't want some weirdo they put in next to take the job."  
"Then let me!"  
"You know I can't Gunn. Believe me, I would choose you over Linsey any day, but unfortunately, I can't."  
"Why not?"  
"I have my reasons Gunn. Now, can I deal with Clara?"  
He shrugged and went behind his desk, pulling out a huge pile of files. Clara viewed them and realized about five minutes later that her cleaning reflexes were kicking in. The papers in the files started arranging themselves so they were in order and corners weren't sticking out. When she was done, the job didn't look as impossible as it had previously. Gunn looked up at her in surprise and she shrugged, tipped him an unexpected wink she made sure Angel couldn't see, and then pushed herself up off the chair. Her and Angel left and she mentally envisioned the door closing behind them. Click. The sound of the door closing softly.  
Her and Angel entered his office and sprawled in their chairs. Her legs were thrown over the seat of her chair and Angel's hands were laced behind his head. "Yes?" he asked rather impatiently. He needed someone like her to work here, but he didn't need her attitude. Lorne had already informed her of it and Wesley had given him a rather surprising account of how she got people to shut up.  
"Look," she said, "I need to quit. Just the working environment here is...not safe for me."  
"Is this about throwing Illyria against the wall?"  
"Is that the blue thing?"  
Angel nodded.  
"No, it's not. I just...can't work here. I thought I could make it work...but it won't. I mean, there are just some people who need to work alone, you know what I mean? I'm one of those people."  
"Lorne also told me about the vision you accidentally gave to him and Spike. It gave them quite a scare. The woman putting you on the stretching machine was your mother wasn't she?" This last question was asked in a soft and caring tone.  
"That's none of your DAMN BUSINESS ANGEL!" she cried. Then she looked surprised at herself and gave him a brief apology in her mind. "Sorry," she said out loud. 'I'm a little touchy on that subject. Let's not talk about it, all right?" Angel nodded again and she continued. "Anyway, about quitting -"  
"No."  
"What?"  
"No."  
"What do you mean, no? You can't tell me no. I say I quit, I quit!"  
"You're only seventeen. You're under my control. And I say that you are not quitting. I've already signed the paperwork."  
"What paperwork?"  
  
"Well Clara," he said, leaning back. "I've done some extensive study on you."  
Her mouth fell open.  
"Nothing about that particular room Lorne mentioned was in that research, so you don't have to worry. But I found out you are one of the most powerful of your kind. Your mother, unfortunately, took a sickening twist around the bend and she is now in a mental institution in Georgia. I understand your father died of cancer when you were eight, and neither of your parents have living relatives. They were both orphans and to find their brothers and sisters if there were any would be more than I need right now. But to get to the point, the court need someone to look after you so they know you're still abiding the law."  
"I don't see what all this is coming to. Why do I still have to work here?"  
"Because I own you."  
"What?" Her voice was flat and a little desperate.  
"I own you. I'm not technically your gaurdian, not technically your slave owner, but somewhere in between. Don't ask me to explain the legal technicalities, but I am your...long-term babysitter so to speak. You must do as I say because I'm the closest thing to a parent you have."  
  
Don't think that sounds like Angel? Find out why in the next chapter. 


End file.
